


Choices

by clgfanfic



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim panics but gets another chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Mating Rituals #2 under the pen name Casey Squire.

Detective Jim Ellison glared at the truck radio as it spilled out another love song.  Reaching out, he turned the knob with a savage twist, silencing the sweet sentiment in midline and sighing heavily.

 _Why am I so damn scared?_ he demanded of himself.  _I've got everything I've wanted.  Sandburg's the best thing that's ever happened to me.  I didn't think he'd be able to give up all those women, but he has.  The kid's ready to spend the rest of his life with me.  And what do I do?  I panic!  Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

Pulling into his parking space at the Prospect Street apartment building, the detective slipped out of the truck, hoping no one stopped him to talk.  He wanted to hide in the loft, put on some soft music, have a beer and try to sort through the mix of emotions raging through his thoughts and heart.  He had to get his shit together, and fast, if he wanted to make this relationship work.  And he _did_ want to make it work.

He nodded at one of his neighbors, trying to ignore the knowing expression on her face.  _Does everyone know I'm sleeping with a man?!_ 

He shook his head.  The expression wasn't a judgment about his choice of sexual partners.  In fact, he'd wager good money Nancy had just noticed his haggard expression and was expressing her sympathy.

_God, I can't even take a kind glance from a neighbor any more without losing it!_

At first his relationship with Sandburg had made Ellison extremely nervous, afraid someone at work would read between the lines and discover what was really going on, but no one had.  _That or they already suspected so they didn't notice_ , he mused wryly.

 _Let 'em think what they want_ , Jim snarled to himself, regretting it immediately.  _This is crazy!  If anyone does find out about us–_

_What?  They're gonna fire me?  If they haven't confronted me yet, they're not going to.  And the guys at the station have basically adopted Blair…_

_But why the hell did I have to fall in love with Sandburg?_

Reaching the loft, Ellison slipped the key into the lock and opened the door.  Letting it swing open, he stared into the comfortably furnished interior.  The majority of the furniture and knickknacks were compliments of Sandburg.  Over the graduate student's tenure the loft had slowly been transformed from an austere space that was nothing more than an expensive hotel room, to a cozy home made up of an odd but comfortable blend of the two men's personalities.  And Jim liked the results.  It had been a long, long time since he'd felt like he had a real home.

 _And this is home…  And Blair's part of what makes it home_.

 _So why am I starting to panic?_   _Why do I feel like I should run away from Sandburg as fast as I can?_

_Because I'm an idiot, that's why._

Stepping inside, he pulled the door shut and headed for the upstairs bedroom.  Maybe a nap would help clear his head so he'd be able to think better.  Blair wouldn't be home until late – something about a visiting scholar and a reception at the alumni building.

 _He's just giving me some space_ , the detective acknowledged.  _How the hell does he know me so well when we're so damn different?  This is crazy.  I'm crazy to think we can make a go of it.  And I know he's crazy_.

The light flashing on his answering machine caught the detective's attention, and he absently pressed the message button, walking off to strip out of his clothes.

"Hi, Jimmy," a soft southern voice drawled.  "This is Chloe.  I've been tryin' t' get in touch with ya all day, handsome.  You told me to give you a call if I ever made it back to Cascade, and, well, here I am.  Care to introduce me to the secrets of the local seafood scene?  Please, give me a call.  I've missed you."

The machine clicked, rewound and clicked again, ready to accept the next call.

Jim stared at the instrument.  Chloe Trousdale was one of the most beautiful women he had yet to meet.  A lawyer for a large Atlanta law firm, she was the ideal blend of independent woman and southern belle the modern South promised but seldom delivered.  Introduced when they were both working on a parental kidnapping case that started in Georgia and ended in Washington, the pair had hit it off immediately.  One thing led to another, and it wasn't long before they'd become lovers.

Ellison sighed.  How long ago was that?  Nine, maybe ten months ago?  No, closer to a year.  Chloe had left just before the whole Switchman incident set off his sentinel abilities–

_And I met Blair…_

But he'd promised to welcome her back to Cascade with an introduction to the local seafood scene.  _Followed by a night of "incredible personal entertainment,"_ he recalled rather sheepishly.

_But I never thought she'd get back to Cascade!_

He could remember her reaction clearly.  Chloe giggled.  "I'll hold you to that, Jimmy," she responded, leaning forward to kiss him.

"You're going to miss your flight," he warned.

She pressed harder against him, circling her hips seductively.  "Mmm, might be worth it."

He chuckled.  "It might at that."

He'd managed to get her to the airport in time for her flight, although just barely.  "Don't forget your promise," she called back as she disappeared down the concourse.

"I won't!"

Jim shook his head and finished undressing, stubbornly refusing to think about Chloe or Sandburg.  Confusion warred inside the detective, and by the time he finished showering he felt terrible.  Knowing that he'd never be able to sleep, he prowled through the loft, looking for something to do, but Sandburg had cleaned up the day before and everything was neatly in its place.  He hesitated at the wall phone, and without thinking reached out and picked up the handset, punching out a number.

Expecting to hear his partner's voice, Ellison was startled when Chloe answered.

"Hello?"

"Blair?"

"Jimmy?  It that you?"

 _Oh, God, what did I do?_   "Uh, Chloe?"

"Oh, Jimmy, it's so good to hear your voice.  I've been tryin' to get a'hold of ya.  Big case?"

"Huh, yeah, yeah, I'm really sorry," Ellison stuttered, still disorientated.  _I must've dialed the wrong number_ , he concluded silently.  _Why the hell did I do that?_

"Are you free?" the woman asked.

"Uh…"

"Great!  I'll be right over."

The phone went dead, but Jim continued to stand, holding the instrument and staring at it as though it had a mind of its own.  _What the hell am I doing?  Sandburg'll get worried if I'm not here…_

The handset began emitting progressively louder obnoxious beeps, and Jim returned it to its cradle.  He shook his head and stalked over to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer and retreating to the sofa in the living room.  Dropping down, he opened the twist-top bottle and took a long drink.

 _Whoever said love was easy ought to be shot_.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

A soft knock sounded at the door.  Crossing the living room, Jim opened the door and the attractive blond entered.  Her tan had improved, making her even more beautiful than he remembered.

She smiled at his startled expression.  "I'm glad I can still make an impression on you," she half-purred.  "For a while there I thought you might've found someone else to keep you company."

"Well, uh, to tell you the truth–"

Crossing to him, Chloe eased her arms around Jim's neck and nibbled on his lower lip.  "Yes?"

Jim swallowed hard.  _Great, what do I say?  Sorry, Chloe, but I'm involved with another man…_

"Chloe, I don't think–"

"Is there another woman?" she asked.

He shook his head and started to explain, but her lips closed on his.  He groaned slightly and returned the teasing kiss with one more hard and demanding.

"Umm, you did miss me," she whispered, pressing her hips against him and feeling his groin swell against her in response.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Their lovemaking was more intense than she remembered, but just as satisfying.  Reaching out, she ran a fingernail lightly over the muscular bare shoulder.  Jim opened his eyes and grinned.  "Welcome back," he said, still waiting to catch his breath.

Chloe smiled and started to pull him into another warm-up kiss when Jim stiffened.  "What?" she asked.

Ellison's blood turned cold, hearing the familiar footsteps approaching the loft door.  _Oh shit.  What the hell am I doing?!_

The knob turned and the door whished opened.  "Hey, Jim," Blair Sandburg called.  "Where are you?  The lecture was canceled.  I thought we could get some work done on the Russell case–"

Feeling the room begin to spin, Jim remained frozen in place as he listened to his partner climb the stairs to the bedroom.

There was a soft gasp and the blood drained from the graduate student's face, replaced just as quickly by a deep blush.  "Huh, e-excuse me," he stammered.

Chloe smiled, hidden under a blanket.  "Hi.  I'm sorry, this is my fault, really. I delayed your partner–"

Blair looked from Jim to the woman.  "No, no, it's me who should be apologizing.  I should've called, or–"  He looked back at Jim, the hurt in his eyes clear.  "Or, something.  I wasn't thinking–"  He turned to give the couple their privacy, saying, "I'll, uh, see you later, Jim."

Ellison watched his guide walk out, then listened to each step that carried him from the loft to the hallway, feeling like his entire life was slipping away with each step Sandburg took.

Oblivious, Chloe hugged him under the sheet and kissed his chin, but he hardly noticed.  "I like him," she said.  "That's your new partner?  I thought you left Vice?"

Jim nodded, unsure about what he should do.  Chloe saved him the trouble of working it out himself when she pinched him, saying, "Well, go on.  Go get a shower so you can go meet your partner and catch that bad guy."

"Huh, yeah," he agreed.  _Oh boy, what am I going to say?  How do I explain? What if–_

"Is he okay?" she asked as Jim slid from the bed.

"Huh?"

"Your partner, sweetie.  Is he okay?"

"Why do you ask?"

"He just looked a little strange, that's all."

"It's nothing," Jim lied.

"Jim, how about I set up a double date with us and your partner?  Sandy Tyler would love to meet him, she likes guys with long hair.  Do you think he'd like that?"

"I don't know," Jim hedged.  "We've got this case–"

Chloe nodded.  "Okay.  When it's over.  Maybe then?  I'll be in town for almost a month."

"Yeah," Ellison agreed.  "Maybe then."

By the time Ellison made it back downstairs Sandburg was gone.  "Damn it," he hissed under his breath.  _Where would he go?_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The drive to Rainier was the longest Ellison remembered making.  The look on Blair's face haunted him, the raw pain shining in the cobalt blue eyes refusing to fade from his memory.  Betrayal.  That's what they said.  _I betrayed him_.

Pulling up alongside Sandburg's Corvair, Jim parked the truck and climbed out.  He stopped on the deserted dark campus, scanning the landscape with his sentinel sight, looking for his partner.  Finding nothing, he took a deep breath and concentrated, focusing his attention on his hearing.  It only took a moment to find what he was searching for – his guide's heartbeat.

Using the too-fast cadence as a beacon, he started out to track Blair down.  He moved across the open grass area, crossed behind the Anthropology building and stopped.  Soft sobs echoed in his ears and Ellison felt his chest constrict.  He forced himself forward until he caught sight of his partner.

Blair sat, leaning back against a large tree in the middle of another grassy area.  Ellison watched the younger man with a growing sense of dread.  _I have to face him.  Explain.  Tell him the truth.  I'm scared.  I'm just scared.  Chloe doesn't mean a thing to me.  I found that out.  I don't want her, that old lifestyle, or any another woman.  I want Blair.  He's all I need.  I know that now, but how am I going to get him to believe me?  And he has to believe me…_

But something told the sentinel that "now" wasn't the right time.  "Damn," he breathed.  He didn't have a choice.  He closed the distance between them.

Blair looked up, his gaze turning hard as he scrambled to his feet.  "Look, Jim, I don't want to talk right now, okay?"

"But–"

"No, damn it, no buts," he snapped.  "Just leave me alone.  I need time to think."

A million thoughts raced though Ellison's mind, but all he could find to say was, "Tomorrow, the case–"

"I'll be there," Sandburg said flatly.  "I understand the concept of responsibility."

"Blair–"

"Just get out of here, Jim."

Jim nodded and turned, but said as he did, "I just want to explain–"

"I'm not ready to hear, Jim.  Not yet."

With a nod, Jim left.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

For three days the two men only saw each other at the precinct.  Where Blair was sleeping Jim had no idea, and it alternatively worried him and made him mad.

 _But it's no more than I deserve_ , he concluded, walking into the Major Crimes office.  Ellison flinched at the stares that met him.  He knew Sandburg wasn't good at hiding his feelings sometimes – other times he was too damn good – and it was clear that the rest of the day-shift were holding him personally responsible for the observer's recent foul mood.

 _And I am_ , Jim sighed inwardly.  _I am.  God, I'm so stupid sometimes!_

"Jim, in my office," Simon called.

Ignoring the continuing stares, the detective stalked into the small office, closing the door behind him.  "Simon–"

"Sit down, Jim."  The captain waited until Jim sat before he continued.  "Look, I know it's probably none of my business, but–"

"Look, Simon, if this has to do with Sandburg–"

"It's about two of my people," he interrupted, "two of my _friends_."

Ellison looked down, studying the pattern on the carpet. 

"Look, I don't know what the hell's going on between the two of you, but it's got to stop."

Jim's head came up with a snap.  Did Simon know?

"I can't have the two of you circling around each other like a couple of alpha wolves.  You're partners, remember?  That means you're supposed to work _together_.  What happens if you have one of those, what does the kid call it?  A zone-out?"

"Yeah, I know, Simon, but–"

"No buts, Jim.  I don't care what it is, I just want the two of you to work it out, or leave it at home.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good.  Now go find him.  He looked terrible."

Ellison stood, wondering if he could confide in the man.  Simon was a friend, a good friend who had backed him all through his adjustment to his sentinel status. Still, what could he say?  Well, Simon, we had a lover's quarrel…

And that wasn't even the whole truth.  _I blew it.  I betrayed his trust…  I hurt him._

"Is there something you want to say?"

Jim shook his head.  "Maybe later."

Simon watched the man leave and sighed.  The others might not know what was going on, but he was pretty sure he did.  "I just hope they don't kill each other before they get it worked out," he muttered under his breath as he returned to the open report on his desk.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Ellison sighed and climbed into the truck, reaching for the mike, but stopping short of actually keying it.

 _No_ , he thought, _I know where he's going.  Better to get this over with right now._

Several blocks from the University Ellison's interest abruptly shifted to the events unfolding on the radio as a hostage situation began to play itself out on campus.  Cursing slightly under his breath when he heard Taggert log in at the scene and  Blair's voice sounded clear to his heightened senses in the background, Jim jerked the steering-wheel around and gunned the engine to join his partner.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

A line of patrol cars blocked the street off and halted his hasty progress.  Jim parked, and removing his badge, flipped it open to gain access to the scene from one of the young men in uniform.  Weaving his way along the cover offered by other cars, Ellison soon found himself with Brown and Taggert.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Hostage situation, upward of fifty women," Brown replied.  "Seems some guy flipped out, stormed one of the women's dorms and took hostages."

"Says he's in there with guns and explosives," Taggert added.  "Blair said he's a grad student in something or other, but he lost his assistantship last semester due to poor grades."

Jim scanned the building, registering the buzz of nervous female voices inside.  "He wants to get even, huh?"

"Something like that, I guess," Taggert said.  "He's threatening to blow the building with himself and the hostages in it if the dean doesn't come down here and meet with him face to face."

"Is the guy coming?"

"He's in Miami, conference or something," Brown supplied.

"Great.  Where's Sandburg?"

"I saw him heading around the other side of the dorm," Taggert said.  "Rafe and Mac Dobins from the bomb squad are over there, too.  Second SWAT team's on the way."

"You running the show?"

"Captain Roberts," Taggert said.

Ellison nodded.  Roberts was a good man, for a SWAT officer.  It was just a wait-and-see operation at this point, and he hoped that whoever they had trying to negotiate with the man could pull off a peaceful surrender.  If the guy blew the building, there would be no guessing how many might be killed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

An hour dragged on, raising Jim's level of anxiety.  Never one for waiting, he decided to make his way around the other side of the building.  At least if he was with Sandburg he'd feel a little more comfortable with the wait.  Maybe he'd even have a chance to talk to the man.

Speaking with Roberts on the way, he accepted the "do nothing, Ellison" command and headed out to find his partner.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Exactly how the situation broke down Ellison was unsure, but when the building exploded, it took the detective by surprise.  Slammed into the humidity-damp pavement, he was momentarily stunned.  The sounds of voices, barking out hurried orders, and gunfire greeted his return to consciousness.  Taggert and Rafe were helping him to cover.  The three detectives stared, unable to respond, as a series of explosions blew out the windows on the upper stories.  The fire spread rapidly, the air choking with heavy smoke and the screams of sirens as the fire department forced its way past the police barricades.  Several women appeared at the jagged windows, some jumping into the mass of police and firemen gathering below.

Ellison shook his head and staggered over to join the chaos, helping as best he could with the injured.  Brown and Rafe each moved back, supporting women who had jumped rather than face death in the burning building.  Several shots rang out and Jim found himself dragging an injured young fireman to a waiting ambulance.

"What the hell's going on?!" one of the firemen yelled.  "I'm not sending my men in there to get shot!"

Captain Roberts nodded.  "I don't want you to, but we have to contain this fire.  Half the campus could go up."

"You don't think I realize that?"  The fire captain turned to one of his men, growling out several orders before swinging back to snap at Roberts, "Just stop this nut from killing my guys in the process!  Getting shot at isn't their job!"

"I'm doing the best I can!  My men are in the building now, looking for him."

"Captain," Ellison called.  "I can go in–"

"We don't have any spare equipment, Ellison, stay the hell out of that building.  That's a order!"

Another explosion echoed through the late afternoon air, and Jim nodded and moved away.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Blair pulled himself up off the pavement and shook his head.  "My God," he gasped as the flames snaked out of the second floor windows, raining glass down on the men closer to the building.  Girls appeared in the shattered windows, screaming for help.

He looked up, recognizing one of his students.  "Marissa!"

Moving with the closest firemen, he followed them to the side of the warehouse as a second explosion ripped through the building.  The flying glass missed them as they pressed against the outside wall. 

Moving in unison the firemen proceeded to the nearest door, crashing it in.  One turned, his hand coming up to stop Blair.  "You can't go in there."

"But–"

"Without equipment the smoke'll get ya.  Stay here!"

A handful of women screamed and rushed out the door.  Blair could see that many had been injured, cut by flying debris.  Several police officers helped them toward the too few ambulances and paramedics who were waiting.

Marissa stumbled out and Blair grabbed her arm, helping her over to the medics.  "What happened?" he asked.

She wiped tears away from large brown eyes.  "Some guy, he's crazy.  He has guns, lots of guns."

Blair nodded, pulling his handkerchief from his back pocket and handing it to the young woman to wipe her eyes.

"He set off the explosions.  We were so scared!  When we saw the fire, we just ran.  He was shooting at us!"  Her eyes widened.  "Blair, Kathy's still in there!"

"It's okay, they'll get her out," he assured.

"No, he has her!"

She began to cry, and Blair hugged her to his shoulder.  "Hey, it's going be okay now, the police know what they're doing."

She nodded against his shoulder and then jerked back, her eyes going wide.  "Kathy!"

Blair turned in time to see the young woman manage one step past the door before Darren Simpson reached out and grabbed her, dragging her back inside.  She screamed.

"Darren!" Blair yelled, bolting toward the building.  "Darren, let her go!  Please!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Come on, Ellison, we need your help."

Jim turned to find one of the SWAT men standing next to him, shouting over the general bedlam.  "That guy's shootin' at the firemen.  Robert wants us to see if we can get in and take him out before the whole damn campus burns.  Three of my guys are gettin' treated for the smoke.  Here–"  He handed the detective a small tank and a large clear half-bubble mask.

Ellison nodded.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The oxygen mask made it possible for Jim to breathe, but the smoke nearly overpowered his senses and he concentrated on tuning out the irritant.  That done, he focused on his vision, looking past the man in front of him to scan the hallway ahead.

A burst of automatic fire snapped the sentinel's attention to another hallway and he took a step back just in time to see a flash from a gun muzzle and watched Blair go down.

He and the SWAT officer opened fire.

Through the swirling smoke Ellison thought he heard someone yelling at him to wait, but he was moving forward, his entire attention focused on reaching Blair's side.  Another warning cry went unheeded, Ellison managing three more steps before part of the ceiling gave way and collapsed on him.

The darkness grew too thick to see through and he reached out with his senses, listening for his guide's still-beating heart, then slid into a dark haven from the general confusion.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Taggert saw the men dragging the shooter out and sighed a thankful breath. It was over.  The fire captain was calling out rapid orders, his men scattering to carry them out.  Joel moved back, not wanting to be in their way.  Before long he was with the rest of the remaining police, huddled around the SWAT vans.

David Sorsenson, a detective in Major Crimes before he requested transfer into the special weapons unit, trotted over to join them.  "Hey, Joel!" he called.

"David, I should've known you'd be here–"

"Have you heard about Ellison and Sandburg?"

"What?"

"The kid took a shot to the chest, paramedics said it looks pretty bad.  And part of the ceiling took Ellison down."

Taggert was moving before Sorsenson's last words, heading for the nearest ambulance.  No Ellison.  He sprinted to the next.

"Hey, who're you?" one of the EMTs asked, grabbing the captain's jacket.

"I'm a cop," he said, jerking back the jacket to reveal the gold badge hanging from his waist.  "Some of my people were injured."

"Sorry," the young man said.  "All we have are two women.  Try Eddie's rig.  He had a critical," he said, nodding to another ambulance not far away.

Taggert thanked him and started over to the vehicle at a quick trot.  As he got closer he could see two paramedics working over someone.  A flash of long curly hair, reflecting red in the light from the fire trucks, slowed him to a walk.  The medics arranged a second IV, then picked up the gurney, sliding it into the back of the ambulance.

Taggert sprinted the remainder of the distance.  "Hey, hold up!"

"We can't wait, buddy, this guy needs–"

Taggert ignored the words, pushing past the paramedic to get a look at the injured man.  It was Sandburg.

A hand descended on his shoulder and Joel turned to find an ashen-faced Ellison standing behind him, staring at the injured man.

Jim felt the world ripple around him and Taggert reached out to steady him.  "Jim, you okay?"

"I'm goin' with you," Ellison said to the medic.

"But–"

"That's my partner!"

"Up front," the man replied, climbing in alongside Sandburg.

Ellison nodded and headed for the passenger seat, Taggert walking alongside to make sure he made it while the second medic closed the rear door.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The ride to the hospital was a blur, Ellison lost in his own world.  Words washed over him like a misty rain: the paramedic calling the hospital, the reply, the other man calling out Sandburg's vital signs…  It was all one long, confused sentence that Jim couldn't quite get a grasp on.  All he could hear clearly was the slightly unsteady beat of Blair's heart.

 _Live, damn it…  Live, damn it… Live, damn it…_ he commanded with each beat.

_You've got be all right.  I have to tell you – I have to tell you I want a life with you, that I love you._

_Damn it, Sandburg!  I swear you do this on purpose!_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Simon sat silently while Jim continued to pace in the otherwise empty waiting room.  Blair had been in surgery for an hour and a half, just long enough to set both of them on edge.

"Jim," he said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Stopping.  That pacing was starting to drive me crazy."

Jim grimaced.  "Sorry."  He walked over and sat down next to the captain.  "You think he'll be okay?"

"I hope so," Simon whispered, rubbing at his eyes.  It had been far too long of a day.  "You want to tell me what's up between you two?"

Ellison sighed heavily.  "No, not yet."

He reached out and put a supportive hand on the detective's shoulder.  "Okay.  But if you want to talk about it later, I'll be here."

"Thanks, Simon."

Banks smiled, but Ellison was already distracted, watching a man who was walking down the hallway towards them.

_Please tell me he's going to be okay…_

The doctor joined them.  "Are you waiting to hear about Blair Sandburg?"

"Yes, we are," Jim said, stepping closer to the man.  "I'm Detective Ellison.  Blair's my partner."

"Captain Simon Banks," said the captain, shaking hands with the surgeon when Jim finished.

"Let's sit down, shall we?"  The pair followed the physician over to the still warm couch and sat back down.  "First, Mr. Sandburg came through the surgery splendidly.  He's in recovery and we have him listed in stable condition."

"Then he's going to be all right?" Jim asked, his throat suddenly too dry.

The doctor nodded.  "Oh, yes.  He'll be back to work in about a month, I should think.  The bullet entered his chest cavity, but was deflected by a rib," he explained when his initial statement was met by two skeptical gazes.  He pointed to a spot a few inches to the right of his own heart.  "That saved him a tremendous amount of internal damage.  As it was, the bullet followed along the rib, fracturing it…"  He drew a finger back along a rib as far as he could reach.  "…And then stopped behind the right lung.  There was no damage to the lung, as far as we can tell.  We had to go in from the back to extract the slug, but, given the damage that was possible from such a hit, Mr. Sandburg is a very lucky man.  When he's out of recovery we'll put him in the Acute Care Unit for another twenty-four hours, just to be sure."

"When can we see him?" Ellison asked.

"Tomorrow morning, I should think.  He should be awake then, barring any complications."

"Complications?" Simon asked.

"Well, when Mr. Sandburg was struck by the bullet, he was apparently thrown back onto a hard surface and struck his head.  The neurologist thinks he may have sustained a mild concussion.  And he also suffered some minor smoke inhalation.  Normally we wouldn't worry too much about that, but given the trauma of the shooting we want to monitor him rather closely for twenty-four hours."

Ellison's somewhat relieved expression turned grim again.  "You mean in case he slips into a coma or something?"

"To be honest, Detective, we just want to be careful."

Ellison closed his eyes for a moment, then said, "In the morning, huh?"

The doctor nodded.  "I'm Dr. Hendersen.  I'll check in on Mr. Sandburg around seven.  Visiting hours start at eight; why don't I meet you in the hospital cafeteria between seven-thirty and eight?"

Jim nodded.

"Thank you, Doctor," Simon added.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Ellison sat in the hospital cafeteria, sipping on a cup of bad coffee and waiting for Dr. Hendersen to join him.  He checked his watch.  It was five minutes to eight.  About to give up on the doctor, Jim sighed when the older man appeared from around the corner of the serving area carrying a tray with a cup of coffee and a bowl of steaming oatmeal.

"Good morning," he said, joining the detective.

"How's Blair?"

The doctor stirred cream into his coffee as he said, "Well, his vital signs have improved, and the wound is draining fine, but he hasn't woken up yet."

"What does that mean?"

"Just that he's taking longer to come around than I thought, but as long as the ECG stays normal, he should be fine."

"Can I still see him?"

"I don't see why not.  He should wake up anytime now; maybe you'll be able to bring him around.  He's in room 323, west."

"Thanks," Jim said, heading off.

The doctor watched him go, smiling at the depth of the man's concern.  He was sure Blair would be fine, but it was safer not to let on, just in case something should go wrong.  Malpractice insurance was bad enough as it was.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Ellison glanced around at the circular ward, disconcerted by the glass walls that isolated each patient's cubical while at the same time creating a sense of exposure.  A circular nurses' station at the center of the room was busy, and Jim forced himself to scan the various beds until he spotted Blair.

Sandburg was lying perfectly still, the bed elevated to aid the draining wound.  Jim entered the cubical quietly, walking over to stand next to his partner.  The sound of the machinery startled him as it engaged, removing the excess fluid from Blair's chest.

Sandburg was pale, and shallow pain lines were set on his face, pinching his eyes together at the corners.

Reaching out, Ellison rested his hand on the injured man's arm.  "Blair?" he said softly.  There was no response except the continued whirring and beeping from the bank of instruments above the bed.  "Blair?"

Ellison fought back the emotions that knotted in his throat, blocking the words he wanted to say.  He let his fingers move lightly along the man's cheek, then backed away, walking over to grab a chair and carrying it over to the side of the bed.  One of the nurses smiled momentarily at him as she passed by.

Sitting down, Ellison began his vigil.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dr. Hendersen stopped by just after lunch and chased Jim out, ordering him to go get something to eat.  Jim complied reluctantly, but was nevertheless thankful to be away from the increasingly claustrophobic surroundings.  When he returned to the cubical, the doctor was gone.

Taking up his seat again, Jim noticed a change in Blair.  The pain lines had eased some, and a hint of color had returned to the man's cheeks.  He watched carefully as blue eyes moved sluggishly under closed lids, finally cracking open slightly when Ellison leaned forward and took Blair's hand into his own.

"Jim?" Sandburg asked hoarsely.

"I'm right here."

Blair coughed and winced.  "Feels like I was hit by a battering ram."

Ellison smiled thinly, wondering if he was referring to the shot or the shock he'd received in Jim's bedroom.  "I saw the doctor.  You're going to be just fine."

Blair nodded, blinking to try and clear his distorted vision.  When he could see Ellison clearly, he was surprised to find the man disheveled and drawn.  "Jim–"

"Look, there's something I have to tell you–"

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Water?"

Ellison looked around the space, spotting a small light blue pitcher and plastic cup on a tray in the corner.  Abandoning the man just long to fill the cup and carry it back, he helped Blair take a few sips, then set the container aside.

"'M sorry about running off like that," Sandburg said, his voice stronger, but still interrupting the carefully rehearsed speech Jim had spent the entire night going over in his mind.  "I was acting stupid–"

"Blair, would you just listen, I want to explain–"

"Darren, the guy at the dorm, did they…?"

Ellison frowned.  "Yeah.  They got him.  Now, listen to me–"

"The hostages?"

"They're fine!" Jim snapped, his voice climbing.  Several of the nurses paused in mid-activity, turning to look at the two men.  He smiled at them sheepishly, then turned his attention back to his partner.  But before he could pick up with his well-rehearsed speech, Blair locked him with one of his "listen to me" stares.  "Jim, I was wrong.  I told you at the beginning I wouldn't cramp your style and the first thing I did was get possessive–"

"Sandburg, will you _please_ shut-up for just a minute?" Ellison hissed under his breath.

Blair blinked owlishly and looked appropriately cowed.  Ellison waited for a moment just to make sure Sandburg was going to let him say what he had to without another interruption, then took a deep breath and said, "It's about Chloe.  She's–"

"Excuse me?"

Ellison turned to find a young nurse standing at the door to the room.  "I need to check Mr. Sandburg's chest tube.  If you could just wait outside; it won't take but a minute."

The detective nodded, moving outside to wait.  _It's a conspiracy!_ he concluded emphatically.  _Someone's having a real laugh at my expense.  We're acting like a couple of school-girls with overactive hormones!_

The nurse emerged sooner than Jim expected, telling him he could go back in. He nodded, returning like Daniel entering the lion's den.  Blair looked up at the man, a flash of pain passing across his features.  Ellison moved quickly to the side of the bed.  "You okay?"  He reached out, resting a concerned hand on the man's arm.

Blair looked at the hand resting there, truthfully confused.  Jim was acting like he was sorry about what had happened with Chloe…  "Yeah," he said aloud, "just a little uncomfortable when I move the wrong way."

Jim gripped his lover's arm more tightly.  "Listen, what I've been trying to tell you–  I–  I was wrong.  Damn, this is so screwed up, but–"  He looked at the cobalt blue eyes, silently pleading for the man to understand.  "I was scared."

"Scared?"

"Scared of what we have."

Blair's brow furrowed.

"It's good," Jim stated, hoping Blair would intuit what he was trying to say.  "Real good.  And it scares me.  I wasn't thinking, or maybe I was trying to run, but… Look, Chloe was just there, and–"

"Jim–"

"I let her– Me– We–"

"Jim–"

"It wasn't like you and me.  It wasn't–"

"Jim!" Blair said more forcefully, prompting a grunt of pain, followed by a long shuddering breath.

"What?"

"I get it, okay?  You had to be sure.  That's what you're trying to tell me, right?" he asked, his eyes glazing over slightly.

"Yeah, I– I guess I did."

"I sort of figured that out.  And are you?  Sure, I mean."

"Yes.  Yes, I am," Jim said emphatically.

"Good.  Me, too.  Now would you get outta here so I can get some rest?  We'll kiss and make up when I get home…"

Ellison fought the smile off his face, and reined in the urge to bend over and kiss the man where he lay.  "You're a pain in the ass sometimes, Sandburg."

"Someone's gotta keep you in line," the grad student slurred, his eyes closing.

"Yeah, and I'm glad it's you…  Really glad."

"'S nice."

Ellison blushed, thinking the man was already asleep.  "Get some rest.  I'll see you tomorrow."

A soft snore was the reply.

Looking over his shoulder, Ellison scanned the area for anyone paying particular attention to them.  When he didn't see anyone, he bent forward, brushing Blair's forehead with his lips.  "I love you."

Brushing the dampness from his eyes, Jim walked out of the room.

"Love you, too," Blair said softly, opening his eyes, a smile on his face.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Blair came home a week later, basking in the love Jim showered on him, and listening to the man talk out his self-doubts over, and over, and over.  _I've got to get him back in bed and screw these damned insecurities out of his head_ , he decided after Jim went though his entire apology for the seventeenth time.

 _But how to do it without being obvious…_  A thought struck and Blair grinned. "Hey, Jim?" he called, pitching his voice just so.

"Yeah?" Ellison replied immediately, moving from the kitchen where he was doing dishes to the living room.

"I'm not feeling too good," Blair said shakily.  "Can you help me up the stairs?"

"Sure, yeah," Jim replied, moving to wrap a supporting arm around Blair's shoulders, guiding him to the foot of the stairs.  They ascended slowly, stopping when they reached the foot of the bed.

Looking down, Jim found himself nose to nose with his grinning partner.  He could smell the faint scent of the younger man's arousal.  "This was a setup, wasn't it," he stated.

Blair grinned.  "You're getting pretty good," he purred.  "And I'm feeling pretty good."

Leaning forward, Jim let his lips brush Sandburg's.

Their eyes locked, silent desire and need passing across the space like arcs of energy.  Jim reached out, touching the man's face gently.  "Do you really forgive me?"

"Yes," Blair sighed for the eighteenth time.  "Jim, I _really do_ understand.  I did as soon as I got past the pain.  I won't say it didn't hurt, but I _do_ understand.  Running was the easy part; what you did, facing me, that was the hard part."

"You can say that again," Jim breathed, easing his fingers around Blair's neck and tugging him forward.

Sandburg moved forward until their lips met for a second time.  "Jim, I understand fear.  I was terrified when this first started."

"You were?"

He nodded.  "I was sure you were going to change your mind, but then I realized you weren't.  But I could see you were scared, too."

"We make quite a pair, don't we?"

Blair's eyes twinkled.  "We sure do," he said, reaching out to draw Jim into a tight hug.

Jim's arms came up, encircling his lover.  He marveled at how they fit together so perfectly, and vowed that no matter what, he'd never again endanger the love he'd found in Blair's arms.  With a cleansing sigh he allowed himself to relax into the comfortable warmth.

Jim's soft flannel shirt tickled Blair's nose as he buried his face in Ellison's shoulder, feeling Jim rest his cheek against his hair.

"I am so sorry, Blair."

 _Apology number nineteen…_ "I know.  So am I, but it's over and done now.  I love you, I forgive you, and if you ever get scared and do something stupid again I swear I'll find a way to kick your butt," he said, punctuating the comment by pressing his face harder against the man.

He shivered when Jim's fingers combed through his hair and rubbed along the back of his neck as he said, "Don't worry, Chief, I'm all done running.  You cold?" Jim asked, his voice soft and thick with desire.

"A little."

Ellison moved them to the side of the bed, then leaned forward, forcing Blair to sit down.  He stretched out against the pillows, and Jim joined him.  Reaching down, Jim pulled the quilt up to cover both of them, then nestled back against Blair's side so the smaller man could rest his head on his shoulder.

"Better?"

"Uh huh."

The lay quietly, enjoying the closeness for several minutes before Ellison finally let his hand move gently over the material of Blair's sleeve.

Sandburg's hand came up, rubbing over Jim's shirt-covered chest in response.

Ellison moaned softly.  "Mmm, that feels good."

"Shh," Blair whispered, slipping a button out of its hole and letting his fingers reach past the flannel to the smooth skin beneath.

Acting on impulse, Jim kissed Sandburg's forehead.  Blair tilted his head back and their lips met again.  They parted for air, each breathing heavily, pulling in lungfuls of the warm, moist air that rose from under the cover.  Jim pushed the quilt down a little, then reached up to cup the back of Blair's head, drawing him back into another kiss that lasted longer.

They moved closer, their bodies pressing against the other, two pairs of hands roaming freely.  Ellison found himself being pushed onto his back, and he wove his fingers through Blair's soft halo of hair.

Blair's hands moved, opening Jim's shirt and shoving the material away, fingers moving over the warm bare skin, kneading, tickling and pressing.  Jim shifted under the manipulation, his body twisting in reply to the insistent touches.  He forced himself to concentrate enough to finish opening Blair's shirt and picked up where he'd left off, forcing Sandburg to shift above him, resting on his knees next to the detective in order to keep his balance.  The quilt fell back to Jim's thighs.

Ellison let his fingers run circles around Blair's nipples, drawing them into hard beads.  He tugged at the single nipple ring and Sandburg arched back, sucking in a broken breath.  Jim took advantage of the moment, pulling the man forward, and Blair landed across Ellison's chest.

Blair traced his tongue across the sentinel's exposed shoulder, causing the man's hips to buck up off the bed.

"Argh," Jim growled.

Blair chuckled evilly, one hand reaching down to rake up the man's jean-covered thigh.  The growl turned into a gurgling moan.

Ellison turned his hips and rolled toward his lover, forcing the man over onto his back.  In control now, the sentinel reached for the hem of Blair's T-shirt, grabbed it and pulled it off.  Next he reached for the waistband of Sandburg's sweats.

Blair lifted his hips so the material could pass, unimpeded, and found himself undressed under the smoldering gaze of his partner.  It was frightening and exciting at the same time.

Ellison stripped the rest of his own clothes off, tossing them on the floor with Sandburg's, then bent forward, catching one of the student's still hard nipples between his teeth.  He felt Blair's already erect cock bounce along his leg and his hands roamed down over Blair's hairy abdomen, brushing the first strands of dark pubic hair, then came to rest on the man's hip bone.

Blair pressed up against Jim's hand.

Ellison leaned forward, his mouth capturing Blair's, while his hand touched, fingers quaking with half-uncontrolled excitement.  Their hips pressed against each other and Blair trembled with anticipation when he felt Jim's cock slide along his, both colliding in the tangle of the other's groin.  He gripped the broad back, pulling Jim in tighter, his hands rubbing down to dig into the well-muscled ass.

Ellison's lips curled off his teeth and he growled deep in his throat, thrusting forward.

Blair matched the move, one hand slipping between them to grab at the sentinel's cock.  It filled his hand and he rubbed in long slow strokes that matched the rhythm they set.

Ellison kissed him, then pulled back, "Whoa, slow down, Chief."

Blair grinned.  "Okay, but I'm close."

Jim leaned over, kissing his chest, his side, his lower abdomen.  When Jim's lips brushed over his fully erect cock, Blair abandoned any attempt at controlling the detective, his fingers curling into the quilt instead.  His hips lifted slightly off the bed as Jim worked his way down the pulsing shaft, leaving behind a trail of soft kisses that left Blair's head rolling from side to side.

Slipping as much of the shaft into his mouth as he could, Jim set a steady, slow pace to their lovemaking.  Blair matched the rhythm, reaching down to run his hand from the tip of Jim's cock down to cup the desire-tightened balls.  When Jim paused to nibble at the head of Blair's cock, Sandburg let his hand run up over the firm ass, his finger poking at the tight sphincter.  Ellison jumped slightly forward, then pressed back against Blair's finger as he increased his speed, bobbing faster.

"Oh, man…" Blair sighed.  "Don't stop… so close…"  He grabbed Jim's cock again, squeezing the hard shaft as he felt his orgasm start.  His hips bucking up, he buried his cock in Jim's mouth and felt the first burst of release carry him away.

Jim sucked and nibbled, coaxing the last drop free.

Blair collapsed, panting, a grin on his face.

Jim grinned back.  "Good?"

"God, yes," was the softly hissed reply.

Ellison stretched out alongside his lover, his erection pressed against the man's leg.

"Mmm," Blair said, reaching down to grab the length in both hands.  "Now, what should I do with this?"

"Whatever you want," was the immediate reply.

"Anything?"

Jim's eyes narrowed slightly.  "You're not up for that, Chief."

Blair grinned.  His partner was right, but that didn't stop the desire.  He scrambled around on the bed, slipping a hand under one of Jim's knees.  "Up," he said.

Jim complied, bending one knee and resting his foot flat on the bed.

"Other one, too."

The detective obeyed.  "Sandburg, what are you–?"  He stopped, watching Blair reach over and pull the tube of KY from the nightstand drawer.  With deliberate motions that made Jim ever harder, Blair unthreaded the cap and squeezed out a small amount of the clear lubricant, carefully coating one finger.  Jim swallowed hard.

Replacing the cap, Blair tossed the tube back in the drawer, then positioned himself so he was kneeling between the man's raised knees.  "Ready?"

"As I ever am with you."

Grabbing Jim's erection with one hand, Blair bent over, kissing the tip, then nibbling along the shaft.  Jim's knees fell open further and his hips pressed up.

Taking just the crown into his mouth, Blair sucked softly, enjoying the combination of whimper and moan the maneuver prompted.  Jim's head tossed and his fingers dug into the quilt as Blair splayed his hand against Jim's ass and allowed a few more inches of the pulsing cock into his mouth at the same time.

"Oh, God…" Jim moaned as Blair's slicked finger, pressed against his tight opening, slipped inside.  "God… Blair… Baby…"

Pressing his finger in deeper, Blair bobbed his head over Jim's cock in long, slow motions.  Jim ground his hips down, impaling himself further.  "Oh, God," he gasped.  "Ah, yeah… that's–"  He stopped as Blair pressed his tongue against the tender underside of his cock and rolled it in rough circular motions.  "Yes," Jim hissed as Blair wiggled his finger, the two sensations short-circuiting any coherent thought.

With a low, moaning "Blair…" Jim came.

Blair returned the favor, sucking him dry, then planting kisses up the smooth chest until he reached Jim's chin.  He kissed the man deeply, and Jim pulled him into his arms.

Together they pulled the quilt up around them again, then snuggled alongside each other, Blair resting his head on Jim's shoulder.

"I really was a fool," Jim said softly.  "I love you."

"I love you, too," Blair said, reaching across the man's chest to hug him close.  _And if he says he's sorry one more time, I'll…_

"I swear it'll never happen again."

"You're really not afraid any more?"

Jim bent his head, kissing Blair's hair.  "Just of losing you."

"Never happen, man."

Jim closed his eyes, feeling the rush of total peace envelope him.  "I'll hold you to that, Chief."


End file.
